I have just discovered the true meaning of self-gloating. I searched for
all HP horror fics of all ratings with the characters being Ginny and
Harry, and guess how many there are besides mine? FOUR!!! Boo ya!
Red Moon
Chapter One: Waking to a Nightmare
A red haze surrounded Harry's vision. He attempted to rub his head to fight the excruciating headache growing between his eyes, but somehow his arm wouldn't move. He felt a soft mattress under his back.
"Harry, dear," said the hoarse voice of Mrs. Weasley, sounding as if she had been crying. "Harry, wake up, please."
"I'm awake," he mumbled.
His breathing was immediately cut off. From the feel of it, Mrs. Weasley was hugging him, her apparent solution to every problem. Surprisingly, it didn't bother him all that much.
"Goodness, we were so worried! When you didn't come back to the Leaky Cauldron Fred and George went out to look for you and they found you all lying in an alley! I'm not quite sure what happened from there, they told me I blacked out, but I'm just glad you're safe for now!"
Harry was surprised to see that the lack of air was causing him no trouble. "Mrs. Weasley," he said in a muffled voice. "What do you mean, for now?"
She released him, and he was able to sit up and open his eyes. Curtains were drawn around the bed, with a slight gap in one side through which a beam of sunlight fell a few inches from his bed. Through the gap he saw another bed surrounded by the same drapes. Mrs. Weasley was sitting in a chair at his side. She was still in a dressing-gown, as if she had been woken in the middle of the night, and her face and eyes were red and tear- streaked. In each hand were two stiff, creamy, slightly curved objects that looked as if they had been snapped off of something. They were about as thick as a Galleon, and weren't hollow. When Harry saw the traces of red on the ends, he realized what they were with a shudder.
"Mrs. Weasley..." he said uncertainly, just to make sure. "What are those?"
She smiled hollowly. "Ron's ribs. They were on the ground."
Harry breathed deeply and swallowed the bile rising in his throat. "W-won't he...need them?" he asked, realizing the strangeness of the inquiry.
She swallowed. It appeared to be difficult. "He won't."
A cold fear swept through Harry's stomach. "What do you mean?"
She choked out a hollow sob. "He wasn't with the rest of you a- and.........the mediwizards said there was too much blood loss for him t-to h-have..."
Harry breathed deeply, shakily. "You mean..."
She nodded quietly. "Yes. Ron's dead."
Harry fell back onto his pillow and ran a shaky hand through his hair to rest at the spot where neck and shoulders joined. His hand froze.
His neck was wrapped in a bandage.
"Mrs. Weasley," he said slowly, "exactly how many of the rest of us got here?"
She swallowed hard. "You made it. Hermione did as well, and Tonks. Lupin and...and Ginny..."
Harry shook his head. "No," he denied. "They're wrong."
"Harry," Mrs. Weasley said gently.
"NO!" he screamed.
From behind the curtains surrounding the next bed, a weak voice emanated.
"Must you shout?"
"Hermione?" Harry said hopefully.
A pale, weak hand groped at the curtains. "Could someone help me, please?"
"I don't think that's a good idea, dear," Mrs. Weasley said hesitantly.
"I need light."
The fingers grasped the curtain and pulled it back. Harry saw a brief glimpse of a pale face surrounded by limp hair before he heard a cry and the hand began to sizzle.
Mrs. Weasley leapt up and yanked the curtains shut.
Harry looked up at her. "She's a..."
"Yes," the Weasley matron quietly replied. "All of you that survived were turned."
"They had werewolves and vampires," Harry said, biting back his fear and instead putting up a show of leadership. "Who's what?"
"Both. All of you."
Harry shook his head. It wasn't true. "You're lying."
Mrs. Weasley flinched. "Harry, you saw Hermione."
"That's her. But I...I can't be evil!"
"Harry, not all vampires are evil, and you know most werewolves aren't!"
"I'm not," Harry replied coldly.
He held his hand out into the sunlight. To his shock, his hand began to burn. He drew it back into the safe shadow.
Mrs. Weasley looked at his hand. It was already beginning to heal. "That's the wolf in you," she said matter-of-factly, but her voice was shaking. "You heal better."
Harry laughed bitterly. "Oh, wonderful. I'm a vampire, but I heal four times faster."
Mrs. Weasley said nothing, only held out her arms.
Harry fell into them and let himself cry.
Red Moon
Chapter One: Waking to a Nightmare
A red haze surrounded Harry's vision. He attempted to rub his head to fight the excruciating headache growing between his eyes, but somehow his arm wouldn't move. He felt a soft mattress under his back.
"Harry, dear," said the hoarse voice of Mrs. Weasley, sounding as if she had been crying. "Harry, wake up, please."
"I'm awake," he mumbled.
His breathing was immediately cut off. From the feel of it, Mrs. Weasley was hugging him, her apparent solution to every problem. Surprisingly, it didn't bother him all that much.
"Goodness, we were so worried! When you didn't come back to the Leaky Cauldron Fred and George went out to look for you and they found you all lying in an alley! I'm not quite sure what happened from there, they told me I blacked out, but I'm just glad you're safe for now!"
Harry was surprised to see that the lack of air was causing him no trouble. "Mrs. Weasley," he said in a muffled voice. "What do you mean, for now?"
She released him, and he was able to sit up and open his eyes. Curtains were drawn around the bed, with a slight gap in one side through which a beam of sunlight fell a few inches from his bed. Through the gap he saw another bed surrounded by the same drapes. Mrs. Weasley was sitting in a chair at his side. She was still in a dressing-gown, as if she had been woken in the middle of the night, and her face and eyes were red and tear- streaked. In each hand were two stiff, creamy, slightly curved objects that looked as if they had been snapped off of something. They were about as thick as a Galleon, and weren't hollow. When Harry saw the traces of red on the ends, he realized what they were with a shudder.
"Mrs. Weasley..." he said uncertainly, just to make sure. "What are those?"
She smiled hollowly. "Ron's ribs. They were on the ground."
Harry breathed deeply and swallowed the bile rising in his throat. "W-won't he...need them?" he asked, realizing the strangeness of the inquiry.
She swallowed. It appeared to be difficult. "He won't."
A cold fear swept through Harry's stomach. "What do you mean?"
She choked out a hollow sob. "He wasn't with the rest of you a- and.........the mediwizards said there was too much blood loss for him t-to h-have..."
Harry breathed deeply, shakily. "You mean..."
She nodded quietly. "Yes. Ron's dead."
Harry fell back onto his pillow and ran a shaky hand through his hair to rest at the spot where neck and shoulders joined. His hand froze.
His neck was wrapped in a bandage.
"Mrs. Weasley," he said slowly, "exactly how many of the rest of us got here?"
She swallowed hard. "You made it. Hermione did as well, and Tonks. Lupin and...and Ginny..."
Harry shook his head. "No," he denied. "They're wrong."
"Harry," Mrs. Weasley said gently.
"NO!" he screamed.
From behind the curtains surrounding the next bed, a weak voice emanated.
"Must you shout?"
"Hermione?" Harry said hopefully.
A pale, weak hand groped at the curtains. "Could someone help me, please?"
"I don't think that's a good idea, dear," Mrs. Weasley said hesitantly.
"I need light."
The fingers grasped the curtain and pulled it back. Harry saw a brief glimpse of a pale face surrounded by limp hair before he heard a cry and the hand began to sizzle.
Mrs. Weasley leapt up and yanked the curtains shut.
Harry looked up at her. "She's a..."
"Yes," the Weasley matron quietly replied. "All of you that survived were turned."
"They had werewolves and vampires," Harry said, biting back his fear and instead putting up a show of leadership. "Who's what?"
"Both. All of you."
Harry shook his head. It wasn't true. "You're lying."
Mrs. Weasley flinched. "Harry, you saw Hermione."
"That's her. But I...I can't be evil!"
"Harry, not all vampires are evil, and you know most werewolves aren't!"
"I'm not," Harry replied coldly.
He held his hand out into the sunlight. To his shock, his hand began to burn. He drew it back into the safe shadow.
Mrs. Weasley looked at his hand. It was already beginning to heal. "That's the wolf in you," she said matter-of-factly, but her voice was shaking. "You heal better."
Harry laughed bitterly. "Oh, wonderful. I'm a vampire, but I heal four times faster."
Mrs. Weasley said nothing, only held out her arms.
Harry fell into them and let himself cry.